Burden of Reality
by Kilrez
Summary: House is seeing things. Weird things. One has to ask oneself if he's been working just a bit too hard.
1. Spontaneous Combustion

**Burden of Reality**

House sat at his desk, despairingly contemplating the build up of paperwork. It was to early in the morning for him to be broken into doing that yet.

He knew he was friends with Wilson for a reason when the oncologist made an appearance in the doorway.

'I should get you a crown of thorns,' House greeted him, enjoying the brief shadow of confusion that crossed the other man's face. But Wilson hadn't known him for so long without learning when to ignore House.

'Hey, I was just wondering if you'd seen Mrs. Ribaldi's file?'

'Why, has it got some interesting pictures-' House trailed off, his ever shifting gaze for once capturing something that rendered him speechless.

'What?' Queried Wilson, knowing that there were also times not to ignore House.

'Your… hand is on fire.' House rubbed his eyes, quickly scanning back through his memory for any drugs he may have accidentally imbibed and came up blank. The situation wasn't helped when Wilson brought the hand up to his face, looking at it in mild annoyance.

'Damn spontaneous combustion,' said Wilson as he gingerly blew at the flames a couple of times. 'One moment.'

'Uh…'

Wilson tried patting at it the fire with his other hand, and then put it in his mouth, withdrawing a hand that was no longer on fire. House watched him carefully, just in case he was about to grow horns or something even stranger. The oncologist settled for letting out a sudden belch of flame, which House ducked to avoid, bringing his head up cautiously to stare at his friend.

'That's better,' offered Wilson brightly.

'Didn't- you know- hurt, or anything?' Queried House, carefully, wondering if Wilson would perhaps admit that this was not normal behaviour. Wilson thought about it.

'Tingles a bit.'

'Uh huh.' Some more staring. At which point Wilson rippled like a mirage and disappeared, revealing another Wilson, stepping up to House's desk. House watched him very carefully for any signs of abnormality.

'What's up with you this morning?' Questioned Wilson in the face of an intently staring House.

'I could ask you the same question,' muttered House in a voice just too low for Wilson to hear.

'Normally I don't get that kind of look at least until I've said something,' continued Wilson, since House hadn't broken the stare.

'Not feeling hot or anything are you?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Growing insanity apparently. You wanted something?'

'Huh?'

'I assume you did come in here with a reason. Or do you just enjoy my company that much?'

'Uh, no. Well, yes actually. Wanna come out to lunch today?'

House gave him another careful scrutiny, although for different reasons this time. 'Wife breaking up with you?'

'Not yet.'

'Killed a patient through gross negligence?'

'That's your job.'

'Found out that Cuddy's quitting?'

'No… is she?'

'I wish. OK. Twelve-ish?'

'Yeah. I'll meet you in here after I finish up with patients.'

'Shh. I'd rather not know about your sordid affairs.'

'There are no-' Wilson cut himself off, never able to resist taking the bait. 'Bye,' House called after him as he left, grinning slightly to himself. Then he remembered that he'd been hallucinating a few minutes ago and frowned thoughtfully. He honestly couldn't think of anything that would have brought on such symptoms. _Oh goodie._ He loved mysteries.

Just experimenting, he stood, gathering his cane, and made his way into the diagnostics lounge. His team looked up expectantly, and he had to carefully restrain a laugh. Cameron had sprouted a pair of angel wings, and Chase was complete with kangaroo ears coming out the top of his head. Studying Foreman for several seconds, he couldn't see anything amiss, but figured perhaps it was something subtler. The silent staring was not completely out of his usual range of strangeness, but Foreman was starting to return his look with mild belligerence, so he decided he'd probably better speak. No matter how funny Chase looked with ears.

Continuing to watch Foreman out of the corner of his eye, he addressed all three of them. 'Do we use nitrous oxide in this hospital at all?'

'Uh, I don't think so,' frowned Cameron, wondering what he was getting at. He had, after all, taught them that his words always held deeper significance, if it wasn't immediately apparent.

'No chances of leaks then,' said House, closing one eye experimentally. Nothing changed.

'What's going on?' Asked Chase cautiously.

'Nothing at all roo boy,' replied House, stalking over to stand behind Cameron's chair, and abruptly waving a hand through the wings before she could turn. They rippled slightly at the disturbance, but remained firmly visible. Cameron turned her head to look at him, starting to look seriously worried now. Chase was just looking put out about the roo comment.

'Just checking here; none of you notice anything… unusual… at the moment?'

They obediently looked thoughtful. House paced over to the bench while he waited, scanning it's the items scattered on it like they might provide inspiration, then turning to face them, leaning back on the countertop.

'Come on people, it's not a trick question. Not that difficult either,' he snapped, glaring at the three of them.

'Uh, you,' pointed out Chase.

'Right.' House mused silently for several seconds.

'There is something going on House. What's up?'

'Fairly vivid hallucinations,' House replied directly.

'What?' Questioned Foreman.

'Maybe we _have_ got a leak of something, and it's causing deafness for you.'

There was several seconds of silence, and House's carefully honed sensors detected that he'd said something off.

'Who are you talking to?' Questioned Cameron tentatively. House realised what was wrong with Foreman. Just testing, he picked up a pencil off the bench behind him and lobbed it at Foreman. Foreman wavered like a mirage as it passed through him and obligingly disappeared.

'Right then. Foreman not in today?'

'No… he's sick,' replied Chase cautiously. His serious tone was slightly undermined by the giant furry ears on his head.

'You saw Dr. Foreman there?' Asked Cameron, slightly more on the ball.

'Yeah I saw Dr. Foreman there.' House mimicked her nastily.

'I think you've finally lost it House,' Chase stated.

'Brilliant diagnosis Watson. Who needs that pesky DSM IV anyway?' House named the psychiatric diagnostic manual with strong hints of derision.

'OK,' said Cameron placatingly, 'we've got to figure it out then. Any ideas on what's causing this?'

_To be continued…_ _(no, really, I'm taking suggestions)_


	2. Drugs?

**Chapter Two**

**Sawyer: -**shudder- Me and HP...don't... get along so well. So no, very much not a cross over.

**Gestalt:**_ Cool. _Insanely happy you like it. Like your name too, but then, I'm a psych student, so that explains a bit.

**morrie**: Will do.

**Chez: -**hands tissues- Don't cry!

**CRae: **Special K, lol. Is _that _what they call it these days -grin-

Hope y'all like it my pretties!

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'So have you seen any other hallucinations?' They were still in the diagnostics lounge, both Chase and House with slight scowls on their faces.

'Apart from Dr. Foreman? I saw Wilson too, just before.'

'Wilson did come into your office just before.'

'Just before just before, another Wilson was in. And I know it wasn't the real Wilson you see, because his hand was on fire.'

'His hand?'

'Either there's an echo in here, there's accompanying auditory hallucinations, or you're just being thick.'

'Have you been getting enough sleep?' Asked Cameron concernedly, her wings rustling slightly and briefly distracting House.

'Or too many drugs?' Added Chase darkly. House dug in his pocket and tossed the Vicodin bottle to him. Chase caught it, barely, and shook it. There was no rattle. Raising an eyebrow at House, he opened it, only to discover that it was too full to rattle.

'That doesn't mean anything. You've got Vicodin stashes all over the place.'

'True. But one of the plus sides to being an addict means one learns not to overdose enough to start seeing things.'

'Other drugs then? Been drinking?'

'On the job? How could you even think that Skippy? Been sneaking some booze in the clinic? They say alcoholism runs in families you know.'

'Pot?' Snapped Chase, glaring at him.

'You tell me.'

'Not pot,' conceded the Australian.

'Why not pot?' Asked Cameron, slightly lost.

'Because Bouncy there knows all about the effects of pot, doesn't he?'

Chase shrugged slightly, not denying it. Then he frowned, thinking about it. 'You don't normally badger me with nicknames…' he said slowly.

'That would be because right now you've got a rather large pair of kangaroo ears sticking out of the top of your head.'

House snickered as Chase's hand flew to his head, barely disturbing the ears as he ran it through his blond locks. Cameron looked curious now, as well as worried.

'Anything else?' She asked, testing the waters. A white rabbit took that moment to go dashing across the table, pausing at the end to wiggle its nose at him as its fur slowly stained pink. House couldn't help but stare at it, forgetting the question. Chase and Cameron exchanged a look.

'House!'

'Huh?' He looked at her, rare confusion on his features.

'Do you have any idea what's causing this?' Asked Cameron gently.

'Causing what?' That was Cuddy's voice, as the woman in question appeared in the doorway. House looked to Chase and Cameron before answering, just to check she was really there. Cuddy saw the look, and narrowed her eyes; it now confirmed that there was indeed something to find out.

House opened his mouth, about to give her a snappy and misdirecting response, before he noticed that in contrast to Cameron's wings, Cuddy had a neat pair of horns, not to mention her eyes, which had turned a lovely shade of brimstone red.

'Guh…' he offered dumbly. Cuddy frowned.

'That's possibly the first ever time I've seen you without a smartarse comment. Something's wrong.'

'House is hallucinating,' Chase informed her bluntly, seeming to enjoy revealing this slightly more than was fair, in House's opinion.

'Really?' Asked Cuddy, perversely interested as she looked closely at the diagnostician.

'It's bringing up all sorts of fun subconscious beliefs,' House confirmed. 'Like, for instance, why you're now wearing the devil costume.'

That got a giggle out of Cameron. 'Well if this is getting you to show appropriate respect, it can't be so bad,' shot back Cuddy.

'Whatever you say, oh dark master. I'm sure you've got something small, cute and furry you should be sacrificing right about now.' House paused thoughtfully. 'How about you do us all a favour and let it be Chase?' He indicated the kangaroo, uh, Australian, with a jerk of his head. Cuddy looked at him strangely, not getting the joke. Chase's face was imitating storm clouds.

'I don't have time for this. Will you two work out whatever it is he's been sniffing and set him back to normal please?' She didn't wait for a response, just turned and stalked off down the corridor. House nearly doubled up as he tried to restrain his laughter. When he'd managed to control himself enough to straighten, Cameron and Chase were staring at him, looking slightly traumatised. They rarely saw him smile, let alone laugh.

'She's got a tail,' snorted House in explanation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cracking up again. Chase was inexplicably looking to be restraining a smile, but that could have just been an averted sneeze.

Cameron got them back on track, snatching up a whiteboard marker from the table and lobbing it to House. It turned into a small whizzing bird in the air, and having moved to catch it without thinking, he nearly dropped it again. Cautiously, he opened his hands, to find a normal pen innocently trapped between his fingers. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, then shook himself and pulled the lid off, limping over to the whiteboard to start the diagnostic process. Unseen behind him, Cameron and Chase exchanged another look.

'Hallucinations,' said House as he wrote it.

'Are the auditory as well as visual?' Asked Cameron.

'Yeah. Wilson was talking to me.' House thought about it and narrowed his eyes. 'Trying to pretend that spontaneous combustion was normal, the bastard,' he muttered darkly. Chase and Cameron decided to ignore that one.

'Anything else? That's not much to go on.' Chase asked, but House was staring at the ceiling, and the only response the Aussie got was a 'whoa.'

The whole ceiling had turned into a swirling star scape, showing brilliant spinning galaxies in the black velvet of space.

'House!'

These hallucinations were looking to be a tricky thing to solve, since they had conveniently stolen the concentration of the one person who was best at this. Chase and Cameron shared a nervous look, which only made them more nervous when House didn't notice. If he wasn't calling them on their nervous looks, then this was serious.

_To be continued…(have I mentioned that this fic is essentially going to be a House/Wilson friendship, without much Wilson in it until the last chapter?)_


	3. No Pain

**Chapter Three**

Author's Note: eep! So terribly sorry about the delay and the lack of acknowledgements, but I really am posting this on the run. Likewise, the next chapter will be a few days, so, well, sorry, again. (And go see Serenity at the movies, it comes out today)

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'House!'

He shook himself, and firmly lowered his gaze. 'Other symptoms. Right.' He thought for a moment, then frowned, as though listening to silent voices. Putting the pen down, he picked up his cane from where leaned against the wall, and slowly hobbled back over to the bench. Casting around for a moment, through the miscellaneous junk that tended to gather there, he picked up a syringe.

Before either Chase or Cameron could stop him, or even say anything, he stabbed himself through the palm. Cameron let out a short scream in spite of herself, and Chase went pale with shock. House just studied his hand thoughtfully, turning it from side to side; the needle, having gone all the way through, was now embedded firmly. A small trickle of blood ran down his palm.

'Jeez House!' Yelled Chase, regaining his voice, looking slightly sick.

'No pain,' commented House, turning serenely to look at his very shocked prodigies. He rapped gently on his thigh with the knuckles of his other hand in demonstration. 'I skipped my morning dose of Vicodin, but it doesn't hurt.'

Cameron ignored his calm, slightly vague tone and had already dashed out, heading for one of the wards to pick up some dressings. She returned a moment later, approaching him warily like he was a rabid dog. He noticed she'd also grown a halo.

'Shiny,' he commented as she carefully took him by the wrist and led him to the table to sit him down. House sat quietly as she slid the needle out and pressed a pad over the top of the wound until it stopped bleeding. The bandages had tiger stripes on them.

Chase had stood and written the words "no pain" on the whiteboard underneath "hallucinations."

'Anything else?' He asked carefully, standing there. House looked up at him and the whiteboard, contemplating. 'Not really. If it helps, the hallucinations seem to be mostly relating to the Christian religion.'

'Kangaroo ears are Christian?'

'Cameron's got angel wings. Cuddy was the devil. Wilson… well, fake Wilson anyway, was a burning bush, or possibly a phoenix.'

'Angel wings?' Muttered Cameron.

'And a halo,' House told her with a snigger as she finished wrapping up his hand.

'Well, we can do a PET or an MRI; see if that shows anything. It could be a brain tumour.'

'Pretty sudden and specific for a brain tumour. Unless… how long have you been seeing things?' Cameron asked House carefully. He found himself amused by her sudden assumption of a bedside manner now he was one of the sickly.

'All my life,' he grinned. Thinking about it, Chase wrote something else on the whiteboard. House read it, raising an eyebrow.

'Aw, come on now. I'm always in a good mood Bob. What's so "unusual" about it?'

'You're normally a miserable, misanthropic old arsehole. Good moods of yours extend to more humour in your insults. This is definitely unusual.'

Cameron nodded in agreement. House attempted to look offended, but didn't quite manage it.

'Not sure I want this to stop then. I mean, perfect pain control, general endorphin high, not to mention the entertainment value of all the…birdies…' He was staring at the ceiling again.

'I'm sure it's wonderful, but we have no idea what it is, and it's most likely doing you damage. House! Are you even listening?'

'Do I normally?' Replied House, still staring at the swirl of fluttering wings that occupied the upper half of the room in the place of the stars.

'No, but that's not the point.'

'Well run the scans or whatever then. Take some blood; check me for anything you think is relevant. And then…' He trailed off again, hopelessly distracted. Cameron sighed and shared yet another look with Chase.

'_House. House, listen to me.'_

'Yeah, yeah, I am.' He finally tore his gaze back down to the two other doctors in the room. They were looking at him strangely. 'What is it now?' He sighed with mock annoyance.

'_House, wake up.'_

Neither of them had spoken, but there was overwhelming concern in their eyes. House stood, picking up his cane with his unbandaged right hand and moving back over to the bench, feeling slightly vulnerable sitting.

'Interesting. Here's a philosophical question for you. Which reality is the real reality?'

'Great. Now's just the time for Plato,' commented Chase dryly, moving towards the phone.

'I may be hallucinating, but that doesn't actually lobotomise me. Step away from the phone. I'm more trouble than I'm worth for the psych department.' House gave Chase a pointed look, which quickly dulled any protest. Its effect was slightly negated when he suddenly sliced the cane through the air, shaking his head violently. 'Nonono. Shut up. Yes I hear you, now shut up.'

'Whoa, House, you're all right, just calm down.' Cameron spoke as though soothing a frightened animal, edging towards House with a calming manner. He paused his actions, opening eyes that were now slightly haunted to look at her. There was suddenly something frightened in his gaze, something begging for help.

'_Come on House, wake up.'_

'I've got this all backwards, I think perhaps,' he said, slight mania to his tone.

'What's backwards?' Asked Cameron, just keeping him talking in an attempt to keep him grounded. Chase was looking on uselessly, unable to do anything but appreciate Cameron's seemingly magic touch.

'I was thinking you were the only real thing…'

'I am real House. Chase is real. We're going to call the psych ward OK, and get you into a bed so you can lie down.'

House laughed, loudly and with an edge of insanity. Then his posture snapped back straight, and he looked at her with that sideways tilt to his head. He spoke in a tone that was abruptly in control, back to the House that was always three jumps and another universe ahead.

'Nice. Now would be the time where I crack it and pull out a firearm, no? I'm fine, Dr. Cameron. Better than fine. I've just worked out why _wings_ exactly. Nice having you here. I must get going though. Cuddy's calling.'

'House, no-' but she was cut off as House opened his eyes, the ceiling rolling into view, with a concerned face hovering between it and him.

'That was interesting,' he said. 'Please tell me you're not an angel though. I thought they were meant to be pure and plastic surgery free.' Cuddy regarded him with a bemused look, which he returned innocently.

_To be continued…_


	4. REM Sleep

**Chapter Four**

Yeees, I'm back online, so groan and hide behind your couches everyone. When I read all the reviews the fairies left me, I squeed until I passed out. It was good. Uh, exams are over, so I will inundate you with posts of various natures now, although I will drop out of existence again in about a month, when the non-trial exams happen upon me. Urg.

Now, here's a duty that I sadly neglected and missed greatly... **Keridwen89**: Foreman not being there? Hmm, now you bring it to my attention... oh the symbolism of it all. Although one has to admit, kangeroo ears don't go terribly deep. **Sawyer:** You know she's got a mental tail. You just know it. And I will... update 'son' that is. I do hope you mean 'soon' **g (of the simple name. I like it): **Wilson in this chapter. Lots of him. Do enjoy. **tpel: **Sorry, no symtoms worsening. And no angst because angst _really _irks me. Well, badly written angst, which is the usual sort, and I won't presume to be able to do any better, so let's not go there. Heh, baseline weirdness. Excellent way to put it. Nice. **MagickalStar135**: Juuust counting the chapters here and...yes... I think... yeah, this is the last one. Good or bad thing? **AilciA**: You know he deserves it. As for the 'no idea-ness', that's my idea of suspense, hee. **darkangel38**: No, somewhere along the lines of cute is where I was aiming. Well, it isn't a 180 degree turn about, anyway. Glad you liked it.**evila-elf**: Oh man, you got the bunny picture so perfectly. That's _exactly _it. And actually, that's kinda the core image, ie. the thing that I started with when I wrote this fic. And don't stop reading! I promise to try to stop being so silly! **iceicekatie**: Hmm, me neither. Oh wait, I'm mean to know that aren't I. Damn. And as to the age old philosophical question... well, ask House I guess. **tranquil-eyes: **excellent synopsis. I like it. Please continue reading. **BookwormKiwi**: Yay, confusion! ps: are you? A kiwi, that is? Will disembowelment follow if I make amusing sheep noises? **wonanee**: 'Mistery' Yes. Lots of that. Now, explanition! **felixgirl:** Oh yeah. Terrifying. Maybe I should up the rating? Seriously.  
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'Well, he's back,' announced the concerned face, although its features had now resolved into resigned amusement, tinged with a weariness born out of repetition.

House blinked, working his facial muscles for a second, then attempted to sit up, for he was lying on the cold tile of the clinic floor, and couldn't for the life of him remember how he'd gotten there. A hand splayed on his chest restrained him, and it felt impossibly hot through his button down shirt and t-shirt beneath that. His muscles were signing in one by one, to tell him they were feeling sore and really quite put out about this whole business.

'Just lie there for a bit House. You took quite a knock to the head when you collapsed.' That was Wilson's excellent concern.

'Oookay.' Then the actual words registered, and House was interested, lifting his head briefly to scan the small room. 'I collapsed? Really? How come?' Cuddy was kneeling on one side, Wilson on the other, both watching him carefully like worried parents with a hyperactive child.

'Fairy dust apparently.'

House rolled his head from where he'd let it come back to rest on the floor, looking at her with a dubious expression, but his leg was aching something powerful, and everything about this just seemed too real to be part of the prior hallucinogenic dream. Feeling he'd had enough of being stood over (well, kneeled over really), he sat up quickly before Wilson could stop him. He shook his head to clear the brief wave of dizziness, but otherwise suffered no ill effects apart from the muted grumbling of a kink in his neck.

'Fairy dust?' He asked, noticing that on the ground around him was a fine, sparkling grey powder, like crushed granite. He dabbed the tip of his index finger into some of it and brought the digit up for inspection, the other hand on the floor behind him so he could lean back on it.

'One of the clinic patients you were seeing in fact was a psych ward escapee. And a bit of a prankster. He felt he had a beef to make up with doctors in general. Claims that that stuff 'makes you understand what the crazies go through'…' Cuddy trailed off expectantly. House raised his gaze from studying the dust to studying her. He raised innocent eyebrows.

'What, want me to explain the amazing high I'm having?'

'This stuff is deactivated now- we tried to get the labs to test it. That's how we knew you'd be waking up soon. I don't think it's an upper as such though,' stated Wilson cautiously.

'No,' agreed Cuddy. 'We found you in here conked out on the floor in REM sleep- dreaming.'

'You had a tail,' House told her seriously.

'What was I?' Asked Wilson, mimicking the curiosity of an eight year old boy on Christmas morning. 'The dream hallucination you, or the dream real you? And were we… going out for lunch today?' House frowned, dream tangling with reality and dragging at his thoughts.

'That was yesterday. It's possible you have a concussion from hitting your head when you collapsed.'

'Yeah, it's…' House grimaced, wiping the dust off his finger and using that hand to massage his thigh, 'also possible that I just need my Vicodin and to get off this damn floor.' He cast around for his cane, seeing it leaning against the exam table and too far away to be of use. He looked pointedly at Wilson.

'Just sit for a bit longer,' compromised the oncologist. House rolled his eyes.

'Is there something you want to tell us Jimmy? Because I had always believed that one needs a uterus to have children and therefore qualify for the title of _mother_.' House used his most scathing tone, but it wasn't cutting any ice.

'Nah, this is manly paternal instinct. It's easy to see how you might have got them confused.'

'I'm warning you- if you force me to sit here, I'll tell you in lengthy and boring detail about my dream.'

Cuddy shrugged nonchalantly. 'Can't be much worse than the usual rubbish that comes out of your mouth.' She pushed off the floor though, standing and brushing the dust off her.

'Ouch. Don't spare any kindness for the cripple lying any floor will you?' As he retorted, House realised he could feel the lump of the pill bottle in his pocket. With the last streamers of fog evaporating from his mind, he was able to separate the dream pills from the real pills. And luckily, he hadn't gone and given the real pills to Chase.

Glaring up at Cuddy, lest she challenge him (she was ignoring him), he put more weight on his left side so he could awkwardly reach into his pocket and draw out the bottle. He noticed briefly the pattern of fine grey dust where it clung to his trousers, and grimaced.

'I'm guessing,' he swallowed the pills dry, willing them to dissolve down to his leg, 'that you didn't find me lying neatly on my back.' By the look and feel of it, he'd landed on his leg, hard.

'No. I think you'd know by now that people rarely collapse neatly into the coffin position.' Cuddy had moved to the door, stepping outside to find someone to clean up the dust, once House was out of there.

'No such luck for the undertakers.' House grimaced again as a sudden stab of blinding pain rose up from the general loud clamour, not stopping at his leg but sinking long claws into his torso, trying to stop his heart. For once, he couldn't help doubling over, hunching around the leg with a grunt.

'House,' Wilson's voice was laced with terrified concern. House rarely, if ever, actually let his pain show though. 'Are you OK?'

'What does it look like Sherlock?' Growled House, gritting his teeth. 'I just need to stand up,' he told his friend, uncurling with an effort, gingerly waiting for the pain to strike again. What he actually wanted to do was lie very still, with a morphine drip hooked into him, but that wasn't an option. Wilson looked at him dubiously, but obligingly stood and fetched House's cane, standing near enough while he struggled upright that he could help if House stumbled, but far away enough that he couldn't be accused of doing so.

Now upright, House stood for several long seconds, trying to control his breathing with fresh pain rippling through him. Wilson patiently waited until House looked at him, indicating that he was ready to go.

'Oh, one second,' Wilson stopped him, a slight smirk on his face. House raised a sardonically questioning eyebrow, but in explanation, Wilson simply walked around behind him and gently brushed off his back. House rolled his eyes to the ceiling as his friend walked around him once, studiously making sure there was no dust left, before nodding in satisfaction, and leading the way out.

As they trailed through the corridors and back up to House's office (because whatever House said, Wilson still knew he needed to sit down), Wilson questioned House again on his dream.

'You should have been a psychologist, not an oncologist,' House told him as he sank gratefully into his desk chair, standing his cane between his knees so he could play with it as a talked. The Vicodin was thankfully finally starting to sink in.

'I've never trusted psychologists,' said Wilson thoughtfully.

'What a perfect reason to become one. If you know all the tricks, they can't be used on you.'

'Is that why you became a doctor?'

'I dreamed I was insane,' stated House. Wilson tried to curb his triumphant expression. The way to get House to talk about something he didn't want to was to ask him about something he wanted to talk about even less.

'So that's what the guy meant about understanding being crazy?'

'Most likely. Although the dream was being very symbolic. Actually I dreamed I was hallucinating… at least, no one else claimed to be able to see them.'

'Symbolic how?' Asked Wilson suspiciously. House thought back on his dream with amusement.

'Cameron was a little guardian angel. She probably would have been Florence Nightingale, only I don't know what she looks like. Chase was,' House snorted, pausing, 'Chase had kangaroo ears, which looked rather comic. Cuddy was some sort of daemon and Foreman wasn't really there.'

'Sounds deep,' smiled Wilson. House regarded him for a moment, a smile curving the corners of his mouth. He could see Wilson was dying to ask what he had been, but could also see that Wilson had learnt the golden rule that if House hadn't offered the information, then he wasn't going to get it no matter what. And he was glad that he'd had the foresight to teach Wilson this rule, because there really was no way he would tell Wilson that all the signs had pointed towards Wilson being the saviour.

Although, deep down, he suspected Wilson already knew that he was House's saviour.

The End.

(yay, soppy and cheap ending! Hope you all enjoyed the wild trip ride. Will post other stories shortly)


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